


O Death

by real_monsters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Explicit for torture scenes, Gen, and for language, concerning rape and murder, demon feelings, tbh it's lilith you get the drill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2013-01-16
Packaged: 2017-11-25 17:31:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/641318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/real_monsters/pseuds/real_monsters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one remembers that Lilith used to be the protector of women. She thinks that's a shame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	O Death

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically a ficlet I wrote as a self-para to get out some frustration and then I decided I might as well post it here. Lilith is my baby??  
> So things like this happen a lot.  
> I wish I could say I'm sorry but I'm rEALLY NOT

Lilith picks up her knife with a soft hum under her breath. A nameless body struggles under heavy restrictions a few feet to her left. The corners of her lips pull up into a small smile as she approaches him. He follows her movement, his eyes resting on the sharp object in her hand. She presses the blunt edge of the knife against his skin, watching him shiver against the cold. Bringing the tip to his throat, a few droplets of blood trickle out, contrasting against his pale skin. 

“Do you think you deserve to be here?” 

The question falls to a silent room, though he shakes his head wildly.

“I didn’t quite catch that. Would you mind speaking up?”

He thrashes against his bindings, to no avail. She pulls the knife away and frowns. “Shame. Maybe if you had shown remorse, I might have gone easier on you,” she says. She slices into his forearm shallowly, “Then again, maybe not,” her voice gains a hard edge, “You know what you did to those women. You clearly have no respect for human life. For women.” 

She smiles, all teeth and no warmth and straddles him across the waist. “People like to make up stories about me, I’m sure you’ve heard a few. They call me heartless, a devil, a temptress,” her voice is barely above a whisper, but she knows he can hear her. His entire being is focused on her. “I don’t value your precious humanity, the way God does. Your race are like ants to me. I suppose the stories are right in that way.”

Her eyes roll white, “What the stories won’t tell you, is that I don’t like it when you males pilage the female gender,” she spits out, venom dripping from her voice.

Cutting off his breathing with a thought, she leans down to breathe harshly in his ear, “You defiled each and every one of those women and then choked them to death. You watched the light leave the eyes, and got a sick thrill out of it, didn’t you?” She leans back and lets go of the control she has on his lungs.

His color slowly returns to his face and she digs her knife into his arm, nicking a vein. She looks at him expectantly for a few seconds, before he catches on and nods hesitantly. “Ah! There it is. I thought you’d never tell me the truth.”

He visibly relaxes and she frowns. “Did you think that would help save you? That your confession that you committed those crimes would convince me to give you mercy?” she barks a laugh, her face contorting into a disgusted expression. “You’re a pathetic human,” she spits out, dragging her knife down the expanse of his chest. Hopping off her table, she grabs a nondescript chemical and pours a generous amount into the wound. She grins at the muffled screams of terror he makes. 

She uses separators she has laid out to keep the wound open and burning.

He screams a lot.

She fills his mind with images of being set on fire, along with the vivid feeling that accompanies it. With a flick of her wrist she twists his entire lower leg half way around. She sticks a finger through the pool of blood gathered on his chest and pops it into her mouth. A sound of contentment escapes her mouth and she pauses the images she was sending into his head.

“You know, I think I’ll make you a present. My brother will love breaking you apart,” she says, grabbing a needle from the side table. “Just one more thing before I go.”

Carefully, she pushes it into his left eye, pushing it deep enough to her satisfaction. She dusts off her hands onto her now bloodied dress.

Now is the time to find her brother.


End file.
